His Little Prying Pandora
by The Embodiment of Yearning
Summary: A 15 year old phan. A wormhole. An Opera Ghost. His young student. Her fop. All of these come together to create a story of friendship, acceptance, passion, and love when young Scarlet finds herself employed by Monsieur Phantom himself. Can Erik even get through the story without killing her? Can this Pandora pry her way into his heart? We'll find out. I really suck at summaries.
1. Running to Freedom

**Author's Note: Ok, well before we get to the chapter, there are some things that I should explain a little bit, or the chapter might not make sense in some places. My OC, Scarlet, has a condition called Crouzon Syndrome, which is a genetic disease. When the baby is in the womb, the skull bones don't fuse correctly, which can cause facial and cranial deformities. Scarlet's case is very mild, so therefore, because of corrective surgery, she appears very normal except for a slightly larger forehead. I know that it's not really something that seems all that dramatic, but kids are brutal. High school kids especially, and since Scarlet is at the tender age of 15, that makes it worse. She's suffered from lifelong bullying and exclusion, which is why she is so depressed. But please review and pm me, and let me know what you think! This is my first actual story, so all of your feedback is greatly appreciated! **

**All of my love,**

**-The Embodiment of Yearning**

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Chapter One: Running to Freedom

**"****Running away will never make you free."**

**-Kenny Loggins**

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_Pennsylvania, 2013:_

"Scarlet!"

Someone was calling her name, but she ignored it. The music blissfully continued.

"Scarlet!"

The abrasive voice grated against her eardrums once more, causing the wonderful sounds around her to pause. After a moment, the music surged to joyful life.

"SCARLET!"

Her eyes popped open in confused shock. There was no more music, but the irritating voice bristled against her senses.

"Get up! You're late for school!"

_Maybe if you don't respond, she'll leave._ She closed her eyes and steadied her breathing. Her mother whispered a string of profanities and suddenly, she was hit by a gust of freezing air.

"Mother, if you would kindly give me back my blanket, I would be ever so grateful." She growled through clenched teeth.

"I won't take any of your sarcasm this morning, Scarlet. You are 15 years old, but your behavior of late has been that of a child. One with a horrid attitude, might I add."

She raised her head from the pillow to glare at her mother. "You want to talk about attitudes? Ha! How about hypocrisy, since you're one of the biggest hypocrites I know? Really, Diana, you should just leave now. I'm in no mood for your ditzy games this early in the morning."

"Scarlet Craft, how dare you address me in that manner? Using my first name, no less! You are grounded, and you can find your own ride to school, I have work." With that, her mother turned, and with a melodramatic flip of her hair, left.

She sighed and sat on the edge of her bed. Her anger melted into crushing dread as one word reverberated through her head.

_School._

She felt the hot tears build up. _Please, no. I don't know if I'm strong enough._

Then the voice of reason piped up. _Scarlet, you've been strong enough every other day. Put the waterworks away and let's go, there's no time for your petty tears._

She wiped her eyes and crossed the room to grab the phone. She dialed the one number she knew she could always depend on. After two rings, her aunt picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Aunt Kelly. What time do you have to be at work?"

"Nine o'clock, why? What's up, Scarlet?

"I need a ride to school." There was a pause, and she knew that her aunt had figured out what had occurred and why her mother couldn't drive her to school.

"Of course, dear. What time do you want me to swing by the house and get you?"

She glanced at the clock, which read 7:30 AM.

"How about 8:15?"

"Sounds good, kiddo. See you then!"

"See you."

There was a click and she put the phone back on the receiver. She walked over to her closet and decided on a pair of skinny jeans and a purple Aéropostle t-shirt. After selecting the proper undergarments, she dressed and went to the kitchen. There wasn't really anything she was hungry for, so she sat at the table and stared at the patterns in the wood.

_You're a freak. A deformed freak, just like everyone says. Even if you weren't a freak, you would still be an outcast. No amount of plastic surgery could help with your ugly personality. You're worthless, Scarlet Craft. Absolutely worthless. No one will ever love you, because everyone judges on looks. No one will ever understand you, no one ever has. So keep hiding behind your mask of faux happiness, when inside you are truly a poor excuse for a human being. Your own mother turns a blind eye to your misery! So really, what kind of life is there for one who lives in hiding?_

She ignored the voice of her depression. She had heard all of that before, and didn't need it repeated.

_What do you have to live for, Scarlet? Why do you keep going? What's the point?_

She considered each question, and found that she really didn't know. She had her family, her friends, and music to live for, but what would she do when she didn't have them? She kept going because she wanted to sing one day, and teach the world what real music was. But what if something ruined that for her? The point of her continuing to live was so she could rise above this Hell she called her life.

_But what if you don't have the means to rise, Scarlet?_

She let her eyes fall shut in silent despair.

_I don't know._

A few minutes of confusion later she rose from her chair and went into the bathroom. She brushed her teeth and tried to do something with her reddish-brown hair, but as usual, it didn't cooperate. She looked at her face in the mirror. First, at her pale skin dotted with freckles that made her look sickly under the fluorescent light, which highlighted the purplish veins underneath and above her eyes. Then, to her mouth, which was much too small for her face. She concluded her examination with her eyes, which were average size, but still too small, as she'd been told many times. They were an ugly, plain blue, almost gray.

_Perfectly ugly. The definition of imperfection_.

She grabbed her bag, then put on her navy blue hoodie and gray sneakers. Her aunt pulled up in her Prius a few minutes after she had locked her front door. It was cool outside, and light rain was falling from the clouds overhead. It was typical weather for an October morning in Warriors Mark, the small town she had called her home for the past seven years. It was an alright place to grow up, she supposed, as the houses went by in a blur.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Her aunt asked softly.

"No… I'm used to it by now. I'll survive."

Another bit of silence fell between them until they pulled up in front of the high school.

"Call me if you need to be picked up early."

She nodded and went to homeroom.

Classes passed by in a blur, and not even her eccentric, ever cheerful best friend Angela could pull her from her silent reverie. She was far away, and yet, keenly aware of everything. The snickers, the hateful glares, the pointed fingers, and the derisive comments. By lunch, she had formulated her plan. She would go home, pack a bag, and cut through the woods behind her house to the Greyhound bus station on the other side. She would leave, if only for a few months.

She went into the bathroom, called her aunt, and slipped a note into Angela's locker on her way out. The sky was overcast, the wind was starting to pick up, but she didn't notice the weather. She went to her room, grabbed her duffel bag, and started throwing in whatever items popped into her head. When she was finished, she felt as prepared as possible with her emergency sockful of money, her pocketknife, some clothing, and some snacks for her trip all shoved haphazardly into her bag. She changed into black sweatpants and hoodie, and out the back door she went. The area of forest she had to hike through was only about three miles, so it should've been easy. Her only hindrance was not having the sun to help her navigate. But she soon discovered that it would be anything but easy.

She had walked a little less than a mile when a strange sensation overwhelmed her. The sensation of being watched. Just then, she heard a branch snap off to her left, and a growl to her right. She broke into a sprint, even though the ground was still slick from the rain.

_You idiot! How could you have forgotten about the coyotes? You're probably smack in the middle of their territory! Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

She had run off the trail, and before she even had a chance to think, the ground underneath her feet gave way.

She was falling


	2. Let the Dream Begin

**Author's Note: Hi guys! In case you hadn't noticed, I like to put quotes before every chapter. The quotes will always have something to do with what the chapter is about, and I think it will become more interesting as the story continues. As always, please review and PM me!**

** I remain, dear readers, your obedient authoress.**

** \- The Embodiment of Yearning**

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Chapter Two: Let the Dream Begin

**"_Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before. Let your soul take you where you long to be!_"**

**-Erik**

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When she opened her eyes, the sun was setting over the roof of a nearby building. _A building?!_ Strangely enough, she remembered everything that had happened up to that point with perfect clarity. She had decided to run away, so she hiked through the woods, got chased by coyotes, and fell into a ditch. So why was she surrounded by buildings, and why did she feel no pain? She had no idea how far she'd fallen, but it wasn't like there were fluffy pillows on the bottom of a firetrucking _hole_. And how the _hell_ did she end up here? Where was here?

_Chill. Just calm down and try to figure out what's happening. Calmly._

She looked around. She appeared to be sitting in an alleyway. She grabbed her bag and started walking toward the street. A _cobblestone_ street. _You're most likely unconscious, and this is just a dream. _Suddenly, someone rounded the corner and ran right into her. She fell, landing hard on her backside. _Alright, you're not dreaming, because that hurt like a-_

"Oh! Pardonnez-moi, mademoiselle. Toutes mes excuses." said a thin, regal, woman whose arms were full of bags.

Scarlet's jaw dropped. "Madame Giry?!" _How is this possible? You can't feel pain in dreams, and yet you are going to end up with a bruise on your ass. This has to be real, but at the same time, it can't be! Dafuq?_

The woman eyed her carefully, and Scarlet didn't miss the look in Madame's eyes when she noticed the odd attire and the duffel bag. "Oui. Vous-je connais?"

_Thank God I passed French One with a 95% average._ "Non, je suis perdu. Parlez-vous anglais?"

Madame Giry smiled kindly at her. "Yes, I do. What's your name?"

"Scarlet Craft, Madame."

"Well Scarlet, do you have any inkling of where you are?"

_Yeah, I know exactly where I am. In a world that doesn't freaking exist._ "Paris, France… Madame, what's the date?"

"It's October 6th, 1869. And from your accent, I'm assuming you're American. So how did you get to Paris, dear?"

"Honestly, Madame Giry, I have no idea." she sighed.

Madame Giry's face was solemn. "It seems that you have memory loss, Scarlet. What about your family and friends? Do you remember anything about them?"

"I don't have any." _Not here, at least._

"I see. Well, we are about two streets down from where I am employed, and I can find out if there's an opening for you, if you'd like."

Scarlet's jaw dropped for the second time. "A job at the Opera Populaire? That would be a dream come true!"

Again, Madame Giry looked at her strangely. "Very well, follow me. But stay in the shadows."

_Damn, I've got to watch it, before I really screw up and say something that would get me into trouble. What if I accidentally say something about the Phantom? He'd kill me!_

As they walked, Madame Giry kept looking back at her. Scarlet shifted her bag uncomfortably. Finally, Madame spoke up.

"Scarlet, I don't know how you know about me, but I do know that you're not from America. Not 1869 America, at least." She paused. "But I do know that you truly are lost, and that you aren't a threat to anyone. In fact, I think you'll turn out to be of great significance to many of those at the Opera."

Scarlet was dumbfounded. How could this supposedly uneducated ballet instructor know something like that? But it was probably just her clothes, or her bag, but still... She opened her mouth to argue, but Madame spoke first.

"Don't try to protest, Miss Craft. I am a superb judge of character, and know greatness when I see it."

The rest of the walk was spent in thoughtful silence.


	3. The Opera

**Author's Note: *hides behind her laptop* I'm so sorry guys! Life, school, family, holidays, blah blah blah. You know. I'm sorry, and I love you all. And I'm most definitely NOT abandoning this story! Have I mentioned that I'm sorry? Don't hate me. Erik is coming soon, if that helps. Pretty please PM and review? Please?**

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Chapter Three: The Opera

**"****It is essential to do everything possible to attract young people to opera, so they can see that it is not some antiquated art form, but a repository of the most glorious music and drama that man has created."**

**-Bruce Beresford**

* * *

Upon arrival, Scarlet became even more overwhelmed than she had been previously. This building—a _fictional _building, she reminded herself—was a true marvel. It was huge, and even from the back, the Opera Populaire was just as beautiful as she had always imagined it would be up close.

She made a mental note to explore the exterior of the opera further when Madame Giry hurried her through a barely noticeable door in the back of the building. Inside, there was a freshly lit candle in a glittering silver holder, seemingly waiting for them. Madame quickly handed Scarlet one of the bags and grabbed their little light source, leading her down a plain, empty passage. They ended up in an equally empty hallway, quiet except for the sounds of their own light footsteps.

"Here, take that bag and put it in the corner, sit down, and then we'll find you something more suitable to wear" Madame Giry said, herding her into a small room on the right side of the hallway.

As she stepped inside, she instantly knew where she was. This was the room where Madame Giry had told the Vicomte Erik's story. Scarlet decided that she officially didn't like this room. As a phangirl, it was, of course, a depressing place.

But she dutifully sat on the small couch in the corner, placing the bag down next to it. Madame Giry shuffled through a dresser on the far side of the room until she found what she wanted. Handing Scarlet the plain blue nightgown, she informed her that she had duties to attend to, and that she would return later.

"Rest. There are extra blankets in the bottom drawer of the dresser. I will lock the door behind me, so that no one may disturb you."

"Thank you, Madame Giry, for everything" Scarlet said, shifting her bag uncomfortably in her lap. Madame probably thought she was some kind of idiot, or at least crazy. Or both. She didn't want to think about it.

"Only thank me when it's truly necessary, my dear. There are worse fates than being lost in Paris, you know. You may have just found one. My daughters can be a bit… Overwhelming at first" Madame laughed.

That made Scarlet feel better. She also found it interesting that Madame really did think of Christine like a daughter. _I wonder what Christine is actually like. And the Phantom, of course. But I suppose I'll just have to settle for Christine. Because I'm just not lucky enough to have a sexy guy in a mask stalking me. Damn it._

Madame Giry, seeing that Scarlet was beginning to feel a bit more cheerful, decided to depart at that moment. As soon as she heard the lock click, Scarlet changed into the soft gown. It must've been Madame's at one point, because it seemed old and worn. But Scarlet liked clothes like that. They were just starting to get comfortable.

Finding a blanket, she curled up on the couch and decided that sleep probably was a good idea. Sleep, however, wasn't so easy. _First of all, there's a super hot murderer basically in the walls somewhere in the building. Second, my butt really hurts. Third, the rose smell is really starting to get to me._

Figuring that she couldn't do anything about the first two, she decided to find the source of the migraine-causing perfume and eradicate it, if possible. "I have nothing against roses" she said softly to herself, "I just can't handle any strong flowery smell".

After wandering around the room, sniffing like a bloodhound, she realized it seemed to be coming from the couch. Then, it hit her. The bag. Moving it to a different corner, her curiosity got the better of her. _There's got to be at least two dozen roses in there, so they obviously can't be for Erik. Ergo, I won't die if I peek. _With that logic, she gently lifted the cloth covering the contents of the sack. In it, were bottles of perfumed oils and soaps—rose scented, she guessed—and her ticket to the torture chamber. A long-stemmed, not yet fully bloomed, red rose.

At that moment, she felt like she was being watched.

_Shit._


	4. New Friends

**Author's Note: I LOVE YOU GUYS AND I'M SORRY! I promise, I'm not abandoning this story! I just haven't felt inspired lately and I've been under tons of stress. But I'm forcing myself to write, because I don't want to let you guys down. So here is Chapter 4, I hope it was worth the wait! Please PM me and leave reviews! I truly do appreciate all of your kind words!**

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Chapter 4: New Friends

**"Every new friend is a new adventure... The start of more memories."**

**-Patrick Lindsay**

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_Maybe he'll do it fast, so I won't feel it… Nah. I'm screwed. Just pretend you didn't do anything wrong, and maybe he'll think you're just a dumb new ballet rat. Maybe he'll leave you alone._

Trying to act like she couldn't feel his presence, she covered the rose and perfumes back up and plopped down on the small couch. Realizing he was still watching her, she pulled the blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes.

_How long is he going to stand there? Doesn't he have a Swedish brunette to stalk?_

Rolling over, she realized how tired she really was. Even with the Phantom of the Opera standing on the other side of one of the surrounding walls, Scarlet quickly found that sleep was inevitable.

Moments after the young girl lost consciousness, the ghost turned and strode determinedly towards Paris' most famous stage.

* * *

"He's here!" Meg whisper-yelled to her best friend.

Christine rolled her eyes and smiled good-naturedly at the blonde stretching next to her.

"Your obsession with the Opera Ghost knows no bounds," she laughed.

Meg grinned. "Perhaps Maman will dismiss us early, and we can search for him!"

Before her friend could reply, Madame Giry turned and scolded them for not focusing on their stretches.

"We're finished for today, you may all return to your dormitories. All except for Meg and Christine."

The other ballerinas snickered at the two friends and quickly dispersed. The pair groaned inwardly and prepared for the worst.

Madame eyed the girls carefully. "I hope your mischief will not rub off on your new friend."

"New friend?" Meg asked. Christine cocked her head to one side.

"_Oui_. Come along."

With that, Madame Giry strode backstage, with the two dumfounded teenagers trailing not far behind.

* * *

Scarlet awoke to two disturbingly familiar faces.

"Bonjour! I'm Meg, and this is Christine!" the effervescent blonde declared.

Christine smiled softly as Scarlet sat up on the couch. "Hello, my name is Christine Daaé."

"It's nice to meet both of you, my name is Scarlet Craft. Where's Madame Giry?"

"Maman had some business to attend to, so she told us to come and make you feel welcome," Meg chirped excitedly.

_Business indeed. Pfft. More like Phantom Package Delivery._

Pushing that thought aside, she said, "Well, I certainly appreciate it. I have no idea how I ended up in Paris."

Christine sighed. "I know how you feel. It's very scary to end up somewhere foreign, with no family to turn to.

At this, Meg interjected, "You mustn't think like that! Think of it as a new adventure, where you'll make lots of new friends who will become a family to you."

Scarlet grinned as they hurried to dress her and lead her out of the small room. As Meg practically ran down the hallway, prattling on about adventures to be had, she walked quietly next to Christine, wondering what new surprises were in store for her and her two new friends.

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**Author's Note #2: Yay for new friends! You guys are still my friends, right? Right? *gets on knees at readers' feet* BE MY FRIENDS, INTERNET PEOPLE. PLEASE. I'm not abandoning this story, I swear on all that is Phantom-y and good in this world. Oh, and if you're new here… Hai. Let's be friends! And regardless of whether you're new or not, please, please PM me and leave a review! I've had too much sugar. I need sleep. REVIEWPLEASEILIVEFORYOURREVIEWS. I'm gonna go now. BYYYYEEEEE!**


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